Sugi Sayonara Zetsubo Sensei
by zeldapeach
Summary: Every one’s story must start somewhere. Follow along as we delve into the past ages of thirteen girls and two boys in Nozomu’s class and learn why they are who they are today.
1. The Beginning

Sugi Sayonara Zetsubo Sensei

Author's Notes: Hey again. _Sugi_ means the past which obviously is the main idea that the story is based upon. I've always thought that delving into past stories of characters was interesting and I hope to pull it off. As you can see, I've planned to include practically almost everyone - even the minor characters. I do hope you'll find it enjoyable!

A short beginning yes, but it is a beginning after all.

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**The Beginning**

_You know, I wasn't always this negative…_

It was a warm, beautiful spring day. For someone starting their first year of high school, it should have been a promising one. But for that particular student, it was not going the way it should be. That particular student was Nozomu Itoshiki.

When he saw that group of young men hanging from the branches of blossoming cherry trees that morning, it should have been a sure indicator that today was not going to be a good day.

After that, he was dumped by girls four times in a row just because his older brothers _and_ his father were better than him. Still, he tried to keep his positive attitude even in this gloomy situation.

Then he suddenly found himself into a club hosted by the same boys he had seen earlier that day. He was quite confused with their eccentric yet depressing actions but paid no mind to it and simply asked for a new pair of glasses in hopes to be more accepted and 'cool.'

They gladly provided him with one and he put them on, unaware of the curse he had now fallen under. When they pressured him to join their negative club, he resisted and was struck by throbbing pain in his temples.

The glasses was a trap! He could never again think happy thoughts while wearing those.

But he would not let it deter him, he was determined not to join and so he ran off. Yet, now he had been cursed to be an outcast. This wasn't getting any better.

As he ran around a corner, he knocked someone over. To his shock it was a little girl. He felt guilty for hurting her.

But the girl just stared up at him and smiled. "I got lost while on my field trip!"

Nozomu relaxed and decided he should help her out. "Well, being lost is no good, we should take you to the police."

He then took her into a nearby house. "We can call from there."

But when they got inside, he found the same men from the club again. Worse yet, on the television, reporters were talking about a girl being kidnapped and the perpetrator said to have the same glasses as his.

After the news, he received dirty looks from the boys and collapsed to the floor in defeat as they scolded him.

_My life is over…if these things are going to keep happening to me…I can never be my old, positive self ever again! I must lead a life of despair!_

-----

"Itoshiki-sensei, what are you doing?"

Nozomu looked up from his desk to see his students staring at him perplexedly.

"Oh, it is nothing," he adjusted his glasses. "I was just having a flashback."

"Flashback?"

"Yes, I saw myself when I was much younger and an event that decided my very future!" he replied loudly, getting excited. "Yes, it was a moment that changed my life forever!"

He slammed his hands down on the desk, gripping its edges. "I'm in despair! A past that defines the person you will be in the future whether good or bad has left me in despair!"

"Are you saying that whatever happened in our past lives are the reasons of who we are today?" Nami asked, raising her hand.

"That is precisely what I'm saying!" Nozomu clenched his fist in response. "Which now brings to the subject of today…what was it that decided your destiny? Tell me, everyone!"

At that statement, the entire class fell quiet. Everyone was in deep thought. _Why are we who we are now?_

The only people that seemed undisturbed were Fuura, the positive girl, and Maria, the young immigrant.

Nozomu then rested his arms on his desk. "Now, don't be afraid, I'll be waiting for you to tell me your story. I'm sure it'll be very interesting…"


	2. Mayo Mitama

Sugi Sayonara Zetsubo Sensei

Author's Note: I'm adding now that for each chapter, a character will be randomly picked out. Let's see how that goes!

I'm pleased to say that the next in pick is Mayo Mitama whom is also a favorite of mine and she certainly doesn't get enough recognition.

Warning: Contains acts of violence and animal abuse that SHOULD NOT be imitated. Just telling you, it's all in good humor (really, I love animals - I would never hurt them.) It is Mayo Mitama we're talking about…

* * *

**Mayo Mitama**

"I will be making this period a study class, you can keep yourselves busy while I'm gone," Nozomu said before exiting the room without another word.

The students just stared then began exchanging conversations with each other. Only two people had left the classroom after him. Nobody noticed.

Nozomu was walking down the empty hallway, alone and talking to himself.

"Since I dropped a rather heavy subject upon them," he said. "I'm sure they will be so occupied and won't bother me. I can finally get some time to myself!"

His rare pleasant mood was short-lived, however, when a shadow flashed by him and stabbed a sharp butcher knife into his shoulder blades.

"Et tu, Brute?" was all he could manage to say before he collapsed on the floor, blood pouring from his back and staining his kimono a deep red.

Around a corner, hidden in darkness was a mean-eyed girl, Mayo Mitama.

_As long as I can remember, I've always enjoyed causing trouble. I have to thank television and my family for that._

-----Violent Love-----

_Do you remember when you saw an act of violence happen on a simple cartoon and your parents reminded you to never try to copy such a dangerous act? Well, I didn't listen to them._

I had watched a character get stabbed multiple times, was crushed by a heavy metal safe, set on fire, and had lit dynamites stuck on him and exploded but miraculously he survived. As I was sitting in the living room, engrossed in the gratuitous acts of violence on the television; my mom walked in.

She took a look at the screen then said; "Promise you won't ever do something that reckless and stupid, Mayo, sweetie."

But after a slight pause, she added. "Of course, you never would, you're so sweet looking!"

I glanced at her but said nothing and resumed watching the cartoon. Even though I had been born with such mean-looking eyes, she never treated me badly and always overlooked my mischief. But it was a different story with my dad.

"I'm telling you!" he would yell during dinner every night. "Our daughter's just as bad as she looks!"

Today I had decided to put a mousetrap in one of his shoes, apparently he didn't like it. I just stared at my half-eaten food in silence as they started to bicker.

"Honestly, how can you say that?" my mom would gasp. "She's your child!"

"My child or not," he shouted. "She's a devil! I now have broken toes, no thanks to her!"

Frankly, I didn't get my dad at all. I was only trying to show my love for him and all he did was get mad at me. I couldn't help it; there were no such things as hugs or kisses or lectures in my home. All things I learned came from the television.

These characters would get hurt all the time and they even seemed to enjoy it so I thought that was natural. They also got away with everything, if they could do that then I could too. And it _was_ fun, I enjoyed everything I did.

That was the story of my childhood.

As I grew bit older, about seven years old to be exact, my fascination with violence deepened. And a new element was brought into my life - pyromania.

It was my birthday and already I had broken a vase, beaten up my young cousins with a hammer, and thwacked my dad's shins with a toy guitar I had gotten as a gift. But my mother brushed those acts off, constantly telling me and everyone how I was such a 'sweet girl.' Still, my family avoided me, afraid of what I would do to them next. I didn't understand them at all, I just wanted to play.

Then came the cake, it was beautiful. A pound cake covered in rich chocolate icing and topped by seven candles of bright colors. I watched as my mom walked up to the table, singing 'Happy Birthday' and lifted it up high for all to see. That move was disastrous yet amazing. The lit candles touched the paper banner overhead and instantly it caught on fire. In panic, my mom dropped the plate and the cake fell to the carpet and splattered all over. Everybody ran except me.

I watched in awe as the flames spread. Such a pretty display of fiery orange flowers dancing along the loose banner. From that moment on, my love for setting things on fire began.

Next year, my birthday came again. Over that time before the special occasion, I had gotten away with many things involving my newly found fire obsession. I had burned an anthill with a magnifying glass (also from that birthday last year), stole a lighter from my uncle when he wasn't looking and used it to set his trousers on fire, and found a match box while I was at my grandma's and used it on her cats. It was oddly refreshing to see them running around and screeching with their tails ablaze. I liked it.

After that incident, I asked my mom if I could have a pet and she smiled. "We'll see, Mayo, sweetie."

As always, she turned a blind eye towards my violent tendencies and sweet talked to me. I wish she would notice, I didn't like being pampered by her for no good reason. That's why I never did anything to her.

The next day, at my party, my mom brought in a large box with air holes. "Happy eight birthday, Mayo, sweetie!"

I opened it to see a pug puppy looking up at me with a goofy grin and wagging his tightly curled tail happily. He was perfect.

I picked him up, cuddling him in my arms.

"Aw! Mayo loves her dog!" my mom cooed but my dad didn't seem too reassured.

I said nothing, I wanted to play with him so I took him outside into the backyard.

There, he ran in circles and barked excitedly. He was happy and so was I.

I crouched down, beckoning him over and he complied. As he came within reach, I grabbed his ears and yanked hard. He cried and dashed off, cowering in a corner near the fence. I didn't get it, I only had wanted to show him that I liked him.

As I crawled towards him, I found a stick hidden in the grass. Curiosity kicked in, I picked it up and got closer to the pup. And stuck it in.

The next day, he was returned to the pet shop but I didn't mind. There were still more dogs to go around in the neighborhood.

And thus marked the beginning of a pattern. Every year, on my birthday, my mom would bring in a new gift and I would find a new way to have fun. Explosions, stabbing things, you name it.

But no one ever seemed to understand my actions - they would either avoid me or more recently as I got older, ignore me. How hard was it for them to know that I just wanted attention?

Around junior high, even though I had done a great deal of trouble in the past, I was still treated nicely. I was beginning to lose hope and maybe even downsize my mischief when I saw something that changed it all.

On way home from school, I had stopped by an alley and noticed two women standing in there. The tallest of them smacked the other across the face. Then they embraced, kissing.

I had watching quietly and felt a sense of excitement. SO there were people who understood these sorts of actions!

So I would continue my ways but nothing special happened until I came to high school. There, I met Nozomu Itoshiki.

One day, I played ding-dong ditch and he caught me. He was the first to see through my appearance and see me how I truly was. Even though he put up an act afterwards claiming I wasn't bad, he still knew me. He could take punishment. I liked that.

And I always have to tease the things I like.

-----

"So, your violence is actually an expression of love?" Nozomu said as he sat on the bed in the nurse's room. He had taken off his shirt so a bandage could be seen on his back.

"I knew you weren't really as mean as you look," he smiled.

Mayo nodded then she dug a knife deep into his chest and ran off.

"I had to ask…" he groaned. "Nurse!"


End file.
